


Quarantine

by Lefaym



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-03
Updated: 2008-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lefaym/pseuds/Lefaym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...it's my duty to tell you that if you were hoping for an early morning shag, it's going to have to wait. He's sick."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quarantine

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to jo02 and justinej from LJ for the beta.

Looking back a few hours later, Ianto realised that his good mood had been a little premature. The combination of a sunny day, low levels of predicted Rift activity, and the promise of an evening "weevil hunting" with Jack was, of course, enough to make anyone optimistic under normal circumstances, but the problem with Torchwood was that only fools let themselves think that there was any such thing as a "normal circumstance".

Still, it all seemed peaceful enough as Ianto let himself in through the tourist office at seven in the morning and brewed Jack's first cup of coffee. He wasn't too perturbed when he discovered that Jack wasn't in his office or his room below, though when he couldn't find him in the hothouse, the archives, the autopsy bay, or the weevil cells, he began to worry that the coffee would go cold before Jack had the chance to drink it.

He was about to call Jack through his earpiece, when he saw Owen emerge from the bowels of the Hub carrying what Ianto recognised as decontamination equipment.

"Owen? Have you seen Jack?"

"And good morning to you too, sunshine."

Ianto narrowed his eyes in reaction to Owen's acerbic tone, and the other man continued, "Yes, I have in fact seen Jack, and it's my duty to tell you that if you were hoping for an early morning shag, it's going to have to wait. He's sick."

"Jack's never sick."

"Well, he is now, and it's bloody lucky that it's him that caught it, and not one of the rest of you."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Alien virus. Jack and I stayed back last night to examine some of the artefacts that came through the Rift last week, and a few hours ago, we opened something we shouldn't have; some sort of biological weapon is my guess. I, of course, am fine, given that viruses don't tend to latch onto dead men. Jack, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky."

"Will he be all right?" Ianto knew that very little could hurt Jack permanently, but he couldn't quite stop his stomach from twisting uncomfortably.

"He's Jack; of course he'll be all right. The worst it can do is kill him, and then the virus will die inside him. It probably won't even get that far though-- Jack's heightened immune system means that he'll most likely be able to fight it off within twenty-four hours; it'll be no worse for him than a mild bout of 'flu. He's still contagious though, and if one of you mere mortals comes into contact with him, we could unleash something that will wipe out most of humanity in the space of weeks."

"Where is he?"

"Down in the quarantine cells. You can go see him if you like; he could probably use a coffee. You'll find an airtight drawer that we can use to give him food and whatever else he might need."

"Right."

"Oh, and Ianto? Try not to get him too excited. The man needs rest."

Ianto rolled his eyes.

****  
****

Ianto did indeed bring Jack coffee, though he had to brew some more; his first cup was approaching tepid by the time he'd finished conversing with Owen.

"Hello, gorgeous." Jack's cheeky voice reverberated strangely through the intercom that allowed him to communicate with those outside his cell.

"Good morning, Jack." The formality of Ianto's greeting was undermined by the hint of a smile that played at the corners of his mouth. "Trust you to get sick on the day that I was supposed to teach you the theory behind the new filing system that I've implemented."

"Ah, I miss out on all the fun."

Ianto observed Jack for a moment through the solid glass wall that separated them. In spite of his grin, the other man's face was both pallid and feverish, and he appeared to be shivering slightly, even under the blanket that was wrapped around his shoulders.

"Are... are you okay?"

Jack's grin became an affectionate smile in response to Ianto's concern. "I've survived worse than this."

Ianto brought his fingertips to the glass. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Nah, I'll be fine. I've already told Owen to bring me something to read, and this coffee should keep me going for a while yet."

"I can stay for a while, if you like."

"Hey, I'm not one to turn down an opportunity to look at you in that suit... Though it would be better still if you could take it off."

Ianto smiled properly at that, but before he could reply, Tosh came bursting into the room to register her own concern for Jack, followed quickly by Owen who demanded that Ianto accompany him back upstairs to help him clean up some spilt medical supplies.

"I'll be back soon," said Ianto over his shoulder, as he left the room.

Once again, Ianto found that his assessment was overly optimistic. Owen's spill, which consisted of several harmless but very sticky alien compounds, took two hours to clean up completely.

Next, he made his way to the tourist office; he intended only to stay long enough to hang a "Closed for the Day" sign on the door, but he found himself intercepted by a middle-aged American couple who insisted on arguing for an hour that they were in Edinburgh rather than Cardiff. And when he finally got rid of them, Tosh informed him that her scans revealed that they were actually aliens who had teleported in from a visiting cruise ship. That, of course, meant that he and Gwen had to spend the rest of the day tracking them down and politely informing them that Cardiff was not currently open to inter-galactic tourists. This led to another argument (two hours, this time), which only concluded when Ianto presented them with two one-way bus tickets to Edinburgh. Gwen made a discreet call to Archie at Torchwood Two, to inform him that it was his problem now.

It was early evening before Ianto managed to visit Jack again, but before he'd had the chance to do more than say hello and deliver a fresh cup of coffee, Owen barged in again, insisting that Ianto leave for at least another three hours while he ran some more tests on their ailing leader.

Ianto shot Jack an apologetic look as Owen hustled him from the room.

****  
****

"Hey there. Back again?" Jack smiled.

"Yep." Ianto paused. "Uh... you look better."

"Yeah, the fever broke while Owen was running his tests. I feel fine now, but he insisted that I stay in here until morning, just to be safe."

"Bloody Owen," said Ianto half-jokingly. "I have, at least, ensured that he won't be sending me away from here again. He's gone home; I said that I'd keep an eye on you tonight."

"You didn't have to do that," said Jack quietly.

"Well, we were supposed to have a date."

"Some date." Jack grinned ruefully. "Though I have to say, you're far more diverting than the reading materials that Owen left me. He has some funny ideas about my tastes in literature," said Jack, holding up a tattered copy of _Biggles Gets His Men_.

"I agree, poor choice. _Biggles Takes it Rough_ is much more your style."

"You know, as your boss, I'm going to have to do something about this cheeky attitude of yours."

Ianto aimed a coy smile at Jack. "I always like it when you take me in hand."

Jack chuckled fondly in response.

"I...brought you something to eat," said Ianto, indicating the cloth bag that he held in his left hand.

"Oh yeah?"

Ianto took a thermos, a bowl, and a spoon from the bag, and placed them in the food compartment.

"Chicken soup?" Jack guessed.

"It's what my mam always made for me when I was sick."

"I never had the pleasure when I was a kid. By the time the 51st century came around, no-one ate chicken soup anymore-- if you saw what chickens evolve into in the fourth millennium, you'd understand why."

"It's lucky that you're here in the 21st century then," Ianto said as he watched Jack pour soup into the bowl and take his first sip. There were some things, he had learned, it was best not to ask about. The answers were usually too disturbing.

"I'd be lucky even if it wasn't for the chicken soup. Although--" Jack paused to take another spoonful, "--I have to admit, this is very good. Did you make it yourself?"

"Mostly. Gwen offered me the use of her kitchen, since she lives closer than I do, and Rhys gave me a few tips. The ginger was his idea. I think he got a little offended though, when I refused to use swede instead of potato. I know you don't like them."

Jack smiled appreciatively, and Ianto ran his fingers along the white Torchwood logo that adorned the barrier between them.

"Damn glass," he muttered.

"Tell me about it."

Ianto laid both his palms flat against the transparent panel, and leaned forward so that his outstretched arms took most of his weight.

"Oh, now that's just not fair!" Jack complained.

"What?"

"The view from behind you must be stunning at the moment, and I can't take advantage."

Ianto smiled. "You'll just have to use your imagination then, won't you?"

Jack raised his eyebrows suggestively, and swept his eyes appraisingly along the lines of Ianto's form. In spite of his suit, Ianto suddenly felt quite naked.

"Loosen your tie," Jack requested suddenly.

"My tie?"

"That's what I'd be doing right now if I wasn't stuck in here. I like it when you look dishevelled."

Ianto obliged, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt for good measure.

Jack's gaze didn't leave Ianto as he finished his soup, and stood so that he was facing him directly. When he spoke again, he used a low voice. "Okay, Ianto. Your turn."

"My turn?"

"What would you be doing to me right now, if you could?"

Ianto drew a slow, deep breath. "Well, uh, your hands would be at my tie, so... I think I would take the opportunity to kiss you."

"Mmmm...." Jack's eyes closed briefly.

"My left hand," Ianto continued, "would be around your neck, and with my right... I'd be untucking your shirt."

"My shirt's already untucked."

"Hmmm... and your braces are gone too. I guess... that means I'd have to start unbuttoning your shirt. I'd need some help though; it's awkward with just one hand."

"Glad to be of assistance." Jack's shirt soon hung open, revealing the T-shirt underneath. "And now... I think it's time to get rid of that tie of yours completely. Your shirt needs opening too."

Ianto took his time removing his tie and undoing his buttons, pausing to enjoy the feel of Jack's eyes on him. "I think we're both still wearing too many clothes," he murmured, before removing his shirt completely.

Jack did the same, and Ianto spoke again. "Your T-shirt too. I'd take that off."

"What if I didn't let you?"

"How would you stop me?"

Jack regarded Ianto with a sultry smile. "My mouth on your left nipple."

"Mmm... I do like that," said Ianto softly. "But... I wouldn't let it stop me. I'd tear that shirt off if I had to."

"Oh yeah, I seem to remember you doing that a couple of times. But since you've destroyed too many of them lately...allow me..." Jack removed the T-shirt in one fluid motion.

"And now--" Ianto began, but Jack interrupted him.

"My turn. You got the T-shirt. And I want... my lips, and my tongue, on your neck. My hands unfastening your belt, opening your fly." Jack's gaze shifted for a moment, from Ianto's face to his groin, where the fabric of his trousers was pulled tightly across his erection.

"Hmmm... let me see..." Ianto mused as his belt and fly came undone, revealing a tented pair of black satin boxer shorts. "My mouth on your shoulder, biting; not quite hard enough to break the skin. My hands on your back, starting at your shoulder blades, moving downwards in circles, until they reach just inside the top of your pants. And then I'd move them around to the front and unfasten _your_ belt and fly. I can't be the only one with my underwear on display now."

Jack's opened fly revealed more than just his underwear; his skimpy briefs did little to contain his excitement. "Now I'd take you by the shoulders, and move you backwards until I was using my whole body to press you against the wall. And I'd press my lips against yours, my tongue running across your teeth."

"Ngh." Ianto found that coherent thoughts were becoming difficult. "My hands, on your buttocks. Pulling you closer, so I can... so I can feel how hard you are." As he spoke, Ianto slipped his right hand inside his boxers.

"Oh, yes..." It wasn't clear if Jack was responding to Ianto's words, or to his actions. "Your shoes are still on," he noted suddenly.

"So they are."

"I think I'd take them off then," said Jack.

Ianto bent down and swiftly untied his laces; he straightened, kicked off his shoes, and pulled his socks off with his feet.

"Of course, while I'm down there..." Jack paused, and lowered himself into a kneeling position. "...I think I had better remove your trousers... and your pants as well."

Ianto hastily removed his remaining clothing. He noted, with pleasure, that Jack's right hand was now moving gently along the length of his own shaft. "What now?" he whispered.

"I take you in my mouth, of course."

Ianto closed his eyes and moaned; he continued to stroke himself as he imagined the scene that Jack had described. "My hands in your hair," he breathed, not sure if his words were understandable.

"Uuhh..." Jack's response indicated that he too was having trouble speaking coherently.

"Ahh... God, Jack... Need to slow down... or I'll come... before we're finished." With difficulty, Ianto opened his eyes and let his arms hang at his sides.

Jack stood, and Ianto spoke again. "You're not naked yet."

"No... you've been neglecting me," said Jack with a grin.

"I had better fix that then. I think... your trousers need to come off now... and everything else."

"You'll need to be on your knees for that."

Ianto knelt as Jack removed the last of his clothing.

"Are you going to... reciprocate?" asked Jack.

"Yes. But first," Ianto looked up at Jack intently, "I would find some lube. And while my mouth was on you, I would... reach behind... and slip two fingers inside you."

Ianto leaned forward, bringing his forehead to rest against the glass, enjoying the sight of Jack's response to his words. Unable to stop himself, Ianto moved his hand towards his groin again.

Ianto couldn't be sure if it was a few seconds or closer to a minute before Jack spoke again. "Ianto, stand up." His voice was soft; a plea more than a command.

Ianto stood, and wanting to bring himself as close to Jack as possible, he again leant his forehead against the barrier, his left forearm above his head. Jack mirrored his movements so that their faces were only an inch apart; their eyes locked together.

"Jack," Ianto whispered urgently, "I want you."

"You can have me."

"I can't touch you."

"Ianto. Keep your eyes on mine, and open your mind."

Ianto focussed his mind, using Jack's eyes as an anchor, allowing himself to be mesmerised by the texture of the other man's irises, which suddenly seemed as deep as time and space. He felt Jack move inside his mind--

_\--and suddenly he found himself moving inside Jack instead, all barriers between them gone. Jack was leaning forward against a wall, as Ianto pressed into him from behind; Ianto thrust, and they both sighed with pleasure; Ianto kissed his neck and shoulders, and Jack moaned his name; Ianto moved faster, and Jack's voice became louder, repeating his lover's name over and over._

"Jack, mmnn oh, Jack," Ianto heard himself saying as his thrusting became more urgent, as he reached the point of explosion. And then--

"Jack!" A wave broke over him, and Ianto gasped as semen spattered onto the glass in front of him, and then spilt warmly into his hand. Vaguely, he was aware of Jack's climax echoing his own.

When Ianto found himself capable of rational thought again, Jack was observing him languidly, sporting the grin that he always wore when he was particularly pleased with himself. "So what do you think, Ianto? Not bad for a sick man?"

"No," said Ianto, still a little breathless, "Not bad at all. Although," he continued, as his composure returned to him, "you had better clean up your part of the mess. No leaving it for Owen to find in the morning."

"Oh, you're no fun," Jack teased.

"I'd better edit the CCTV footage too. I still haven't forgotten the time that you failed to do that, and we almost ended up on YouTube."

Jack laughed. "I promise, I would not have let that happen."

Ianto smiled and shot Jack a sidelong glance. "I know. I think."

"So..." Jack spread his arms, "What's on for the rest of the night?"

"Umm..." Ianto paused in thought. "I could get the chess set?"

_"Chess!?"_

"Uh... chess according to my own special rules, that is."

"And what rules might those be?"

Ianto allowed himself a sly smile. "If I told you now, it would spoil the surprise."

"Ianto Jones, I like the way you think."

As he left to find the chess set (fully dressed, much to Jack's chagrin), two thoughts occupied Ianto's mind. The first was that he was going to have to edit the CCTV footage even more extensively than he'd originally planned. The second was that perhaps his earlier optimism hadn't been so ill-founded after all.


End file.
